Stupid
by Silver Maggots
Summary: Ginny Weasley had never considered herself stupid. Draco Malfoy unknowingly shows her that she is. GinnyDraco, mentions of ColinGinny and MichaelGinny, but this IS DMGW. Slight lemon. R&R, Oneshot.


Stupid

Stupid. Ginny Weasley was not quite sure what the word itself entailed, but she had always considered herself above it. Not that she was arrogant or snobby--just that she had never quite committed any deed so lamentable that she would look back and call herself stupid. Of course, there was the Chamber incident; those months of carrying around a diary filled with malign intent--knowing in her heart that something was wrong, and yet trying so little to stop herself. That, people had assured her, was all Lucius Malfoy's fault. She had been soothed and taught to be strong, battling her way out of the nightmares and dark feelings. In the end, she acknowledged it only as a mistake. It could have been anyone with that diary--it had just been bad luck that it had fallen into her hands.

Since then she had been as spotless as well polished marble. Stony, firm, at times unbearably stoic. Still, she managed to lead a relatively normal life--she had friends whom she giggled with, and she looked at those Witches glamour magazines, mourning over her figure. She often stressed out over her grades, many a time encountering one of those tense and sleepless nights, too nervous to sleep--only to fall asleep on the test paper the next day. True, she lead a normal life--and yet this figure in ivory seemed so frail, Ginny sometimes wondered why.

She didn't think about it much. It seemed when she was younger emotion had been magnified. When she cried, she was truly sad; when she laughed, she was truly happy. Back then these feelings seemed to settle in her heart, aching away pleasantly or painfully; now, they were almost muffled. Sometimes she wondered if it was just a part of growing up, that if every time Lavendar cried over a boy it was only because she was a good actress. Everyone else seemed to feel in these magnificent waves of sensation--and yet Ginny, more often than not, felt empty.

Sure, she could cry, if she _pushed_ real hard, and sure, she would giggle, if she _pushed_ real hard--it's just that, in wondering whether or not others had to push, too, and in wanting more than this endless struggle, she drifted steadily away.

Take the time she and Michael Corner had finally started dating. She had felt _something_ for him, _something_, a small flicker of something weak deep in her chest. An effete, controlled little trickle, and it wasn't anything new. She had felt this way about Harry, after the Chamber incident; this same, unbearable, inaudible trickle. Before, she was sure it had been a steady ache, a stomach-wrenching need. But now, this was it. This was _all_.

Michael, according to Hannah Abott, was an outstanding kisser, and once they had started dating, all the girls had been on her for details.

_"Doesn't it just send a tremble down your spine?" Hannah had inquired, her eyes shining in reminisce._

Except, for Ginny, there had been no tremble. Michael was full of passion; he would pin her to walls and gently pry her lips apart, grunting and growling in his own little world as his tongue tried to elicit from her some reaction, something, _anything_. Ginny had just felt slimy, as though she'd had something nasty and foreign squirming around her mouth for the last half hour. Michael had eventually, after about two months into their relationship, prodded her for something more, something more _intimate_. Ginny had tried, just for him, because like any girl, she was convinced this was love.

Needless to say she had stopped it before it even begun. In fact, they broke up that night, and Michael would later tell his friends, to Ron's vengeful horror, that Ginny was _frigid_.

She didn't mind, of course; maybe she was frigid. She just didn't know if she could have tolerated the fumbling, the awkwardness that she didn't really feel. When his fingers had pushed themselves beneath her panties, the shock of the touch had sent her pushing him wildly off. She couldn't stand this heat, the heat of his body pressing in around her, the feeling as though she was trapped. His erection had pressed against her leg, and she had felt intimidated; a small, dislikable feeling that she had been eager to be rid of.

So maybe this was how her life was meant to be. A continuous rush of hallways filled with children, the smothering heat of all their emotions. Muffled emotions? Were they strained, like hers? Did they have to _shove_ to get a smile out? Ginny didn't know, though she wondered. She would look intently at Hermione's freckled nose as the girl poured over some tome, wondering what emotions she was feeling. When that bushy head raised sleepily up, a small smile would be on those lips and Ginny would think, _Is it real? How can it be so easy?_

Despite this, Ginny lived a brutally safe existence. In the summers she was surrounded my her many brothers, and they would go out to the pitch and play Quidditch or go swimming in the lake and have splash fights. During school Ron looked after her; eventually she made the Quidditch team, as a Chaser, and became a Prefect. Her circle of friends tightened as they enjoyed their sixth year--and Colin Creevey asked her out. The trickle returned and Ginny knew it immediately; and so they began.

Colin was much easier to like than Michael Corner had been, and Ginny began to relate to him. He was fun to be around, and with him it was a little easier to laugh, to smile. He didn't try to kiss her for the first few weeks, sticking mainly to friendly pecks on the cheek and long, strong hugs that Ginny assumed were to show her how he felt. It was nice to have someone like Colin around--even though he brought his camera everywhere with him. Ginny felt as though she was genuinely fond of him.

Colin was patient with her, never pressing her for anything the way Michael had. He talked to her most of the time, grinning his sparkling grin, and she would smile absently back, listening as attentively as she could to his incessant chatter. He kissed her for the first time in the Astronomy Tower, a chaste, sweet kiss, and Ginny had frowned and stared out the large Observatory window, wondering why the stars seemed to make a mockery of the twinkle in his eyes. Wondering why she hadn't felt anything.

After that he held her a lot more than he had before. As autumn of their sixth year passed, his hand brushed hers in hallways and eventually his fingers struggled with her limp ones, lacing in between them. In the winter, during their Hogsmeade trip, he slung his heavily-coated arm around her shoulders and nuzzled the icy tip of his nose in the crook of her neck. In the spring, he pulled her back against his chest, caging her in against him with his entire body. And Ginny would, of course, smile her absent smile at him.

This relationship did not end the way the one with Michael did. They continued dating throughout her seventh year, Colin never asking for more than her presence to satisfy him. After graduation, they drifted apart. Colin sent her dutiful, devoted letters the entire summer, but Ginny could never match the intensity conveyed in his words with the half-hearted struggle that encircled hers. Just as Ginny got her first job in the Ministry as an Auror-in-Training, about six months after leaving Hogwarts, the letters from Colin, which had been coming less and less frequently, trickled to a stop.

Ginny thought that maybe she had lost something when, two months into her new career, she realized that it had been awfully long since Colin's last missive of love. She felt a twinge in her heart as something broke off and fell away, and she thought rarely of him after that. It was as though the part of her that had grown attached to Colin Creevey had, as easy as that, disappeared. Life continued, in its empty, voiceless way, dragging Ginny through two years of Auror training and, finally, her initiation into the real thing.

Work picked up once she actually became an Auror, and she was happy for the distraction it provided her. Her lonesome days spent at the Burrow, with only her mother and father for company, were quickly overshadowed by the abundance of paper-work she had to do. Ocassionally, a mission for a solo Auror, such as herself, would come up and she would be sent away to perform menial tasks, such as routing ghouls out of attics. She figured the only reason the Auror department did not forward such tasks to the Control of Magic Creatures department was because they wanted to keep her busy.

When Ginny had earned enough money to move away from her parents' house, she rented a quiant little apartment in Muggle London. Visions of walls covered in colorful paintings and plush, comfortable furniture flashed briefly through her head, but the apartment became furnished with old furniture from her parents' house and, though she earned enough to buy her own, everytime she walked into a store she only felt a strange confusion. The walls withheld their bland, white exterior, as stark and plain as Ginny herself felt.

Then, it happened. She didn't know when and how Draco Malfoy had risen to be Head of the Auror department, but it had happened. Later, she would assume that she had been in too much of a daze to realize all of the significant things that were occuring around her. But when Draco Malfoy entered her office that day, she simply could not ignore him.

He cleared his voice and she looked up from her work, feeling wary all of a sudden. "Hello, Weasley," he said, quite politely. She twisted her mouth and wondered why she felt like smiling. His robes were a deep, rich black, probably very high quality, and they contrasted with his pale, handsome features. When had Draco Malfoy grown to be handsome?

"I was wondering..." he flushed slightly, and looked pointedly out the open door, as though he contemplated making a run for it. The entire sight was, on a whole, quite amusing, Ginny decided. Perhaps she would laugh. But she didn't have time to decide whether or not it would be the appropriate thing to do, because suddenly, as though from an empty stream, the sound bubbled miraculously out of her, sounding wet and wonderful on her dry throat. She was laughing. Her eyes narrowed in confusion, but she couldn't stop herself.

"What's so funny?" he snapped, scowling at her as he approached her desk. He surveyed her work briefly, his mouth setting in distaste. She managed to smother her laughter, a look of incredulity on her face. That had been so...

The silence was palpable, as though weighted with words. Malfoy sighed, then looked as though the less pleasant side of him had won a deep, internal struggle. "I was wondering whether or not you'd like to go out for lunch today," he muttered sourly, as though the very thought of going out for lunch with her turned his stomach. Looking at him closely, Ginny saw that there was a kind of hope in his eyes.

Two other members of the Auror department had asked her out for either lunch or dinner before, and she had always gracefully declined on the basis of having too much work. Malfoy was her Head of Department, and so he probably knew that she had finished all of her work for this week and was simply getting a head start on next week. She could see no way out of lunch with him, and so she accepted. Maybe he wouldn't be as bad as he had been in Hogwarts. From what she had bothered to pick up around the office, he was quite popular.

She had a terrible time. He took her to a ridiculously high classed restaurant that was celebrating the arrival of a ridiculously popular wizarding celebrity which, of course, caused there to be many reporters from the Daily Prophet who immediately picked up on the presence of a Weasley and a Malfoy _together_. They were questioned about whether or not they knew the celebrity, whether or not they liked him, and crunched together by the beefy restaurant owner and irritated celebrity for a picture that would later appear on the front page of the Daily Prophet. Magically altered pictures, with Ginny and Malfoy holding hands or some such nonsense, would appear in the gossip column of the Prophet.

Of course, this caused Malfoy to be in a foul mood all through lunch, when, after an hour or so of being hoarded by the reporters, they were finally allowed to sit. In the distance, being held off by security, those same reporters hustled for a closer view of what they were doing, or perhaps a scandalous picture. Ocassionally there was the snap and flash of a camera. Malfoy sneered and insulted the waiters for small mishaps that the men could not help, such as not carrying his favorite wine and having too much garlic butter on the garlic bread.

"It's called garlic _bread_, you know?" he complained, to Ginny's utter embarassment, "Not garlic butter with a side of bread." She found herself flushing in anger and humiliation, but also in surprise. She had never felt so many things at once, and so easily, too. But that did not mean she would forgive Malfoy's behaviour.

Their lunch was had in awkward silence, with Malfoy obviously simmering in anger, and Ginny mostly in surprise. When they were finished, Malfoy paid, to Ginny's horror, and made a snide comment about her slightly frayed robes when she protested.

She went home to her flat that evening and, after inspecting herself thoroughly for any magical spells that might have been placed on her and therefore caused her peculiarly emotional responses, vowed to never go out with Draco Malfoy again.

He was back in her office after two days, this time requesting a dinner date in the same condescending manner he had had before.

"Sorry, my cat died," Ginny offered weakly, and he glared at her knowingly before stomping out of her office. That night, Ginny went out to dinner with Luna and Hermione and, to her absolute terror, found herself in the company of Draco Malfoy, as well.

He stormed up to the table, quite obviously in a temper, and slammed his fists onto the rough wooden surface. Luna's untouched drink slopped over onto the tablecloth. "I thought your _cat died_, Weasley," he ground out through gritted teeth. He looked fully the vengeful Adonis, filled with passion and anger, and Ginny found herself flushing in an indescribable feeling. She hid her face, rubbing her temples.

"I'd already promised Hermione and Luna," she offered, even though Luna had only owled her with the dinner propisition a few hours before. She didn't know why she felt the urge to laugh again and maybe to, she realized to her chagrin, get up and kiss him firmly on the mouth.

His eyes widened as if noticing her companions for the first time and he strode away with as much of his dignity as could be maintained.

He was in her office the next day, and Ginny prepared herself to be fired.

"Give me a chance, Weasley," he said, his voice surprisingly soft and pleading, "I've waited a long time to gather enough of myself to ask you out. Please give us chance." He left her then, and she found herself frowning down at her papers for the rest of the day. She didn't realize it then, but there was an ache like she had not felt since before the Chamber incident settling in her chest.

She found his address later that night, and flooed to his flat, though she could not fathom why such an impulse had come to her. She padded quietly through his elegantly furnished house until she found him in his study, signing documents with a glass of Firewhiskey in one hand. She did not know what she had expected to find him wearing, but was surprised enough to gasp when she saw him in only a pair of silk green boxers, looking all the Slytherin Sex God he had been rumored to be. He turned and paused in disbelief as he saw her there, and she suddenly felt as though she were at Hogwarts again. She was a student who had been caught sneaking into the Forbidden Section of the library but, rather than slight, niggling guilt in the back of her mind, she felt as though an explosion of butterflies had gone off in her chest.

He crossed the floor suddenly and swept her up in his arms. She didn't protest when his soft mouth pressed against hers; she felt as though fireworks were going off in her head and sending sparks down her spine. Everything tingled and she found that she was trembling as his scent washed around her, clean and male and all Malfoy. Before she realized what had happened, they were in the bedroom, her head arush with a disconcerting amount of sensations and feelings, but predominantly the _need_ to be closer to Malfoy's body.

He groaned her name as he slid into her, and she felt a rush of warmth at his husky, adoring tone. She pushed her hips upwards, connecting them fully and an unintelligible sound came from his mouth. His eyes were bright and silver above her as they found their rhythm and Ginny found herself caught in some kind of strange whirlwind. She whimpered as she came, shocked as well as eager when the waves of ecstasy rolled over her, and found herself murmuring his name against his neck as he reached his own completion, shuddering and moaning above her.

He collapsed atop her, his warmth crushing and comforting and Ginny wrapped her arms around his sweaty body, never wanting to let go. She realized that the area between her legs ached like it never had before, that Malfoy, of all people, had taken her virginity. She inhaled his scent and giggled as he peppered kisses along her collarbone.

He rolled off her and they lay in relative silence. Ginny realized that he probably expected her to leave, now that they were done, and for some reason the thought of it sent a ripping sensation through her chest. She rose from the bed, only to be pulled back down against his warm, firm chest. "No," he whispered to her, "Stay." It was all the encouragement she needed.

Later, after he had fallen asleep, his face nestled in her hair, she laced her fingers through his and found herself sobbing quietly into the darkness of the room. All of the emotions that she had neglected to feel for the past decade came rushing back, all of the feelings of loss and grief, and even the feelings of achievement and happiness. But most of all, there was this new feeling, this feeling that had been triggered by the man sleeping against her. She wasn't quite sure what it was, yet, but she knew she would find out and she hoped she could continue to feel it for the rest of her life.

For the first time in her life, Ginny realized how stupid she had been.

**Author's Note: I'm not sure this fic makes much sense. I started it a long time ago, left it, forgot about it and then I went reading through my old stuff and thought it could be worked with. I think my original intention for it was very angsty, but I don't remember how I had wanted it to end, and so I came up with this ending. **

**I haven't been writing much fanfiction lately (sorry!). I've been very busy with grade ten, but mostly just uninspired. JK's epilogue from hell kind of killed my love of the HP fandom for a bit, but I've always been so in love with Draco that I had to return to him. This is just a fic to let you all know I'm alive and all. To those of you reading OHC (Over Hot Chocolate): I hope it will be updated this summer since my exams are over and my boyfriend is gone for like, the entire three months. However, my cousins are coming to stay with us for the summer, I got a new dog and I'm taking a math course that will result in a math exam and much misery for me. So there is a chance that the updates won't happen. And (I just had to drop this in) I'm writing my own novel, so...Pray I'll have time!**

**Reviews are always good motivation, so R&R!**


End file.
